


And the Word was Made Flesh

by Yung_Mofftiss (OnWednesdaysWeStudyinPink)



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2017-12-14 21:17:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnWednesdaysWeStudyinPink/pseuds/Yung_Mofftiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>originally posted here: http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/25077.html?thread=2467317</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Word was Made Flesh

Amy loves many things about Nick; he isn't weirded out at all by the saint candles or the plaster statues of the Virgin Mary all around her flat, just curious. He doesn't say anything as he studies the religious imagrey and Amy watches him with nervous suspicion--she doesn't want to get labeled as a bible thumper.  
  
Her bed is right against the west windows and warm afternoon sun has infultrated the room, casting everything in gold. She unbelts the sash to her robe, persimmon silk with kimono sleeves. Nick comes to her, opening her dressing gown, eyes traveling from her lips to her thighs.  
  
He lifts her and she wraps her legs around his waist, eyes closed and kissing as he carries her to the bed, divesting her of the dressing gown. He lays her out, a length of beige across eggshell sheets. Naked and bathed in light, he doesn't mind the things about herself she usually keeps cloaked in the night's dark. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching her as he starts removing his combat boots, unlacing them as she feels the wet heat between her legs. She loves watching him, too.  
  
It's not long before he's completely out of uniform, his fatigues atop her silk robe and he has her lay on her side, facing the windows and away from him. He strokes his hand down her side, slipping around her front to catch her thigh and lift her leg back over his. He kisses the back of her neck, murmuring soft words of affection into her ear as he presses against her, his hand trailing down again to move along wet, swollen skin and she gives an eager moan, taking his now sticking fingers to her mouth, sucking on them in a hint of what she wants to do to him  
  
She knows that's the only invitation he needs. He pushes into her slowly, as if savoring the experience and she takes the opportunity to intertwine her fingers in his. As they find a rhythm, he bites the back of her shoulder, groaning into her skin. She moans as well, enjoying how warm he is. Directing his fingers everywhere, she allows herself to fall into the safety, the love of her soldier.  
  
It's not long before she starts to squirm in his arms, mewling for him as he pushes over and over and over and over--he pulls her closer as he gets closer, as she gets closer and soon they're calling out one another's names.   
  
Nick lets her leg down off his, breathing hard against her neck and she traces her fingers across sticky and hot come starting to run down her thighs. The bells at the church across the street ring for the noon recital of the Angelus and she can tell from the way he's settled against her he's starting to fall asleep.   
  
"I love you, soldier boy," she whispers.


End file.
